Secrets And Delusions
by topazring
Summary: It’s the Fifth Year. Harry is super angsty. Ron’s Confidence meter is at negative twenty. Hermione gets anonymous er..love notes. Malfoy is super, super whiny. And everyone is paranoid! Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JKR.

Summary: It's the Fifth Year. Harry is super angsty. Ron's Confidence meter is at negative twenty. Hermione gets anonymous er..love notes. Malfoy is super, _super_ whiny. _And _everyone is paranoid!

A/N : Warning: this is a _totally _insane story!

**Chapter One** : _**Kings, Capital Letters and Therapies**_

Hermione Granger was having a bad week.

No doubt about that. A _very _bad week.

May be, if she had continued with her Divination classes she could have predicted it…er, most likely not! In any case she was wishing that she could have been _anywhere _but in the Hogwarts castle at the moment.

It started with a near perfect normal Monday morning. Brimming over with excitement as she literally skipped her way to the first classes of the week–with her best friends slouching along behind her in their typical Monday Morning Blues–she flashed a smile at everyone. Yes, it was perfect. She had answered every question asked–and even some that _weren't_ asked. She went pink with joy as they were given loads and _loads _of homework. Yay! She could now spend _so _much more time in the library than usual, she thought happily even as her fellow students muttered darkly under their breaths about doing unmentionable, decidedly homicidal, things to their professors.

Life was perfect, she thought contentedly, as she dragged a hapless Harry and Ron to her favorite corner in the library. She gave a big smile to Madam Pince on the way, to which the batty librarian gave a curt nod and a tight little smile on her withered lips; after all the bushy haired girl was the only one who spent as much time as her in her revered domain. Harry and Ron, who had watched the exchange, turned to share a look and roll their eyes. Hermione sat down in her well worn seat at a table behind the shelf filled with books about domestic spells and charms, as for some reason no one seemed much interested in them and as a result this was the least visited section of the library–which suited Hermione perfectly for she could work undisturbed in her cocoon.

She breathed in the smell of fresh parchment as she carefully laid out her work on the table, then did the same with Harry and Ron's books, extracting them from their school bags, as the said duo sat in identical postures, morosely resting their heads on their arms. She tutted at them–surely doing work isn't _that _bad, and certainly didn't warrant their funereal expressions, she thought, as she herself quivered with excitement. _Ah! Books! give me large dusty never-ending tomes and I'd be happy for life!_

She opened the Fifth Year Intermediate Transfiguration text book and started on the six foot essay Professor McGonagall had set them. After about fifteen minutes a quarter of the parchment was filled with her neat yet very cramped writing, as though she doubted that whatever she wanted to write about the topic could _ever_ fit into a mere six feet, she put her eagle quill down and dove into her bag for a reference book. She paused as she spotted her two friends in the same position as before, except now Ron seemed to be dozing lightly on his crossed arms and Harry was staring off into space. She carefully picked up the rather heavy textbook and whacked them both soundly on their heads.

"OW!" both of them screamed in unison. Ron fell out of his chair in shock.

"Whadya do that for?" he muttered crossly with his blue eyes watering pain as he lay sprawled on the dusty floor in a rather undignified position. Harry was gingerly rubbing the top of his head, glaring at his supposed 'best friend'; he felt sure that his brain was still bouncing along in his cranium from the impact because he had trouble focusing on the bushy haired image and bright lights kept erupting in front of his cornea.

Hermione primly set the book down, opened to the correct page and continued with her essay. With the assaulted two still glaring murderously at her in question, she looked up after a few minutes and fixed them with a stern stare that could rival Minerva McGonagall's. The two shrank back.

"Now boys", she started deliberately, "you can't just sit and waste your precious time, _especially_ this year. As you aware that this is our OWL year and that means that it is _eminent _that we spend every waking sec-"

"Oh, just shut it will you!" Ron exclaimed as Hermione looked beyond scandalized. "We _know _that it is the cruddy _OWL_ year! All the professors remind us that _every single BLOODY day!_ Now, we don't need YOU to keep-"

"RONALD! Watch your language!" Hermione snapped loudly and narrowed her eyes at the redhead. "If you _know _that and don't need me reminding you, then why don't you _open _your books and _do_ your _work_ - _without _me reminding you for once!"

"Coz I don't WANT to do any work! And we wouldn't even have _got _this STUPID essay if you hadn't gone to McGonagall and _ASKED _for it!"

"Don't you _dare _call this stupid! This happens to be a very important topic that may surely appear in our OWLS as it has already appeared in the previous two exams-"

"_I don't care!_I just want to go out and play Quidditch like me and Harry had _originally_ planed, if you weren't being your usual _goody-goody _self then I would not have to sit here getting _assaulted with damn books _in this stupid- _stupid _lib-"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY! Don't you DARE finish that sentence! And for your _information,_I only asked Professor McGonagall so that rest of the class wouldn't lose marks in the OWLs on such an important quest-"

Ron who had progressively turned as red as his fiery hair burst out, "Just _stuff it_with your OWLs already!"

"-ion! And there's no _point _in you playing Quidditch", she continued, her hair turning more frizzier and seemed to crackle with electricity, "seeing that everyone else knows that you are no great shakes at it either or do you seem to think mistakenly otherwise!"

This was a low blow, a _very _low blow, but Hermione was too furious with the way Ron had insulted her revered books to stop to consider what she had just said.

It was actually quite morbidly funny to watch Ron face turn from a ruddy red to as white as parchment as all the blood seemed to drain from it. His eyes grew comically large, not believing that she had just said what he thought she said. To say that he was bothered by the "Weasley is our king" taunts, almost continually everyday since the last match, was an understatement to say the least. His stomach seemed to turn over and he felt himself shrinking in his seat as his ears quickly assumed a brilliant scarlet hue.

Hermione immediately felt sorry for him and was ashamed with herself, but-but _he _called her a _goody-goody_ and the library(which was a sacred place in her book)_ stupid! That could not be forgiven!_ The vindictive part of her brain called out loudly over her conscience. _Serves him right!_ It yelled, as she set her previous glare at him.

Ron, on the other hand, in his moment of extreme mortification glared doubly at her, somehow reasoning that it was all _her_ fault and the _stupid _library's fault that he was now so embarrassed and _not playing that bloody Quidditch game with bloody Harry on the bloody pitch, instead he was sitting here in this bloody library with so much bloody work that he doubted that it would ever be completed in his bloody life time and getting hit on his bloody head with a bloody book—_(well you get the gist).

Harry meanwhile watched his furious friends giving each other _Avada Kedavra _looks. His head had stopped spinning a long time ago and was now ringing with his friends' voices. He felt his own anger bubbling to the surface. _Those idiots ALWAYS bicker and bicker and bicker some more! Its like they have nothing else in their lives but to bicker and tear each other down! And what about HIM! Did either of them ever stop to consider him in their happy little spats?NO! he was ALWAYS ignored its like he was nonexistent in their cozy bicker paradise or whatever! HOW DARE THEY? No one ignores him-- he was Harry FRICKIN' Potter! He could get friends who would LINE up to watch him in awe at __his beck and call and NOT ignore him! Yeah! Maybe he should get new friends—!_

"You two are SO infuriating! Can't a guy live in peace for TWO minutes without you start SHOUTING at each other!" He stood up dramatically and banged his fist on the table (_ow! That hurt!)_, "But NO! there's no stopping YOU lot! It's always about YOU, YOU and YOU! But what about ME! HUH? DO EITHER OF YOU EVER THINK ABOUT ME? I BET NOT! WHY WOULD YOU LOT THINK ABOUT A POOR ORPHAN?"

Ron who was gaping like a fish at his friend recovered a bit and muttered, "You are _hardly _poor, Harry, quite the contrary. I heard that you have a rather large vault in Gringotts-"

"THAT IS BESIDE THE POINT! _I _HAPPEN TO HAVE LOST MY PARENTS WHEN I WAS _A YEAR OLD!_ _I _HAPPEN TO BE THE TARGET OF A DERANGED LUNATIC! _I _HAPPEN TO ESCAPE FROM THAT LOATHSOME SNAKE FACED GIT, WHO MAKES SNAPE LOOK LIKE BRAD PITT, _SO _MANY TIMES THAT I'VE LOST COUNT! _I _HAPPEN TO BE THE ONE DUMPED ON DURSLEYS' FRONT STEPS AS AN INFANT! _I _HAPPEN TO BE DUDLEY'S ANGER RELEASE OUTLET FOR _ELEVEN _FREAKING YEARS!"

"Er..who's Brad Pitt?" Ron asked looking confused.

"He's a _very _handsome and hunkaliscious actor in the muggle movies," Hermione answered Ron promptly. He looked at her strangely for saying 'hunkaliscious' though not knowing what it meant exactly. She continued addressing Harry, "And Harry, you technically faced you-know-who a total of four times- if you take into account you seeing him in the Forbidden Forest in our first year, although he was in Professor Quirrel's body at the time, so I'm not sure if that _technically _counts. Also in our second year you only saw Riddle's memory and again I'm not sure if that-"

"THAT IS BESIDE THE POINT!", Harry yelled again, his green eyes glinting dangerously behind his glasses, "_I _FACED HIM MORE TIMES THAN ANYONE! _I _SAVED THE SORCEROR'S STONE FROM HIM IN OUR FIRST YEAR!"

"It's the 'Philosopher's Stone' according to the British edition," Hermione informed him dutifully.

"I DON'T CARE _WHAT _FREAKING STONE! THAT IS BESIDE THE POINT!", Harry's coal black hair was standing on the end, " _I _SAVED GINNY IN SECOND YEAR! _I _KILLED THAT BUTT-UGLY BASILISK WITH A FREAKING SWORD GIVEN TO ME BY THAT BRAINLESS HAT, LIKE I COULD SOMEHOW LEARN HOW TO SWORD FIGHT IN A SECOND WHILE THAT FREAKING REPTILE WAS INCHES FROM BITING MY ARSE! AND THEN _I_ HAD TO KILL THAT TOM WEIRDO RIDDLE BY STABBING A FREAKING INANIMATE OBJECT AND WONDER FOR THE REST OF MY MISERABLE LIFE IF I NEEDED THERAPY! _I _HAD TO FIGHT OFF A HUNDRED DEMENTORS WHO WERE ATTRACTED TO MY BUTT OR SOMETHING! _I _WAS THE ONE WHO FOUND OUT THAT MY FREAKING GODFATHER WAS AN ESCAPED CONVICT AND WONDER IF _HE _NEEDED THERAPY AND HOW TO PERSUADE HIM TO VISIT THAT FREAKING SHRINK DUDLEY WENT TO DURING THE SUMMER! _I _WAS FORCED TO BE IN THE THAT _STUPID FREAKING_TRIWIZARD THING! YOU WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT DUE TO PROGRESS OF HUMANITY SUCH BARBARIC THINGS WOULD BE NON-EXISTENT OR SOMETHING! BUT _NO_! APPARENTLY THE WHOLE FREAKING WIZARD WORLD STILL LIVES IN THE MIDDLE AGES, JUDGING BY THESE STUPID PANSY ROBES THAT EVERYONE HERE WEARS! WHAT IS WITH THAT?WHY CAN'T WE WEAR FREAKING TROUSERS OR SOMETHING THAT WOULDN'T MAKE THE MUGGLES SUSPICIOUS- HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO MAINTAIN SECRECY WHEN WE GO FLOUNCING ABOUT IN THESE NIGHT GOWNS LIKE PONCY FREAKS? CAN'T WIZARDS DO MAGIC WITHOUT FEELING LIKE A GIRL? DOES THE SOURCE OF MAGIC COME FROM THE OPEN SPACE BETWEEN THE LE-"

"HARRY!" Hermione yelled.

"OH, DON'T YOU HARRY ME! _I _WAS THE ONE THERE WHEN THAT FREAK WAS REBORN OR SOMETHING! THANK MERLIN AND ALL OTHERS IN SWEET HEAVEN THAT THE FUMES WERE THICK THAT NIGHT OR I WOULD HAVE BEEN PERMANENTLY SCARRED MENTALLY SEEING THAT UGLY GIT IN FULL MONTY!"

"Too much information Harry!" Ron wailed clapping his hand over his eyes, even as his mind unhelpfully supplied with that horrifying image. Ron whimpered and attempted to claw the disturbing image out of his eyes.

"_I _HAD TO ESCAPE HIM – _AGAIN­_ AND _THEN _WHAT HAPPENS? _I _GET ATTACKED – _AGAIN – _BY A NUTTER WHO FREAKING SEEMED TO LOVE THAT SNAKE GIT! WHY CAN'T SOME GONE CASE LOVE _ME _LIKE THAT AND ATTEMPT TO KILL THE PALE FREAK FOR ONCE? BUT _NO!_ _I _HAVE TO DO THE DIRTY WORK MYSELF! 'COZ THAT IDIOT DUMBLEDORE _CAN'T_ USE UNDERHANDEDNESS- 'COZ THAT WON'T BE _NOBLE!_ NOBLE, MY ASS! IF _HE _WANTS TO BE NOBLE THEN HE IS WELCOME TO BE KIDNAPPED BY VOLDY THE NEXT TIME! OH, HE MAKES ME SO MAD I WANT TO CHEW MY ARM OFF! ALWAYS PRETENDS LIKE HE KNOWS EVERYTHING THAT GOES AROUND! WELL, _HELLO!_ IF YOU _KNOW _WHATS GOING ON THEN FREAKING _DO _SOMETHING TO STOP IT AND _STOP _MAKING YOUR STUPID EYES TWINKLE EVERYTIME WITH THAT CHARM I KNOW YOU USE! _I _AM THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS THAT THE OLD 'I LOVE SUCKING LEMON DROPS' COOT IS OFF HIS ROCKER AND NOT BEING _WONDERFULLY _ENIGMATIC LIKE EVERYONE BELIEVES HE IS! _I AM SURROUNDED BY ST -MUNGO'S -INCURABLE -WARD -WORTHY PEOPLE!_ OH GOD THEY NEED HELP! BLOODY HELL! _I _NEED HELP AND _LOTS _OF FREAKING THERAPY! OH _GOD _I-"

Harry seemed to have stopped his tirade at last and slammed his fist onto the table again for effect (O_w, again!). _Then he yelped loudly as a hand shot out and twisted his ear painfully. His eyes watering he turned to see who was attempting to tear his ear off. He shrank back quickly as he found the furious face of the ancient librarian in his. Madame Pince was baring her teeth and breathing heavily through the nose.

"You _nasty_ little cretin! This is a sacred place where silence is valued above all, but your head seems to be too thick to grasp that--_shouting like a lunatic! _Such appalling behavior," she hissed through her teeth as Harry shrunk further back. "If you so much as breath loudly the next time you're here, banning you from the library is the _mildest _thing I will do to you!" she finished that with such a malevolent look that said surviving _Avada Kedavra_ would be a walk in the park compared to whatever she planned to do to him. He gulped.

"Now out! Get _out!_" she said dragging him by the ear towards the entrance.

Harry looked at her horrified and wondered if she was related to Voldemort in some way, who by the way was beginning to look like a bunny rabbit compared to hackles–raised librarian, or perhaps all the time spent surrounded by books had made her go psycho; he dully hoped Hermione's fate would be different. Madame Pince released his ear and shoved him out of the library, slamming the door in his face. He got up from the floor, one hand rubbing his sore bum on which he had landed painfully and the other feeling around his numb ear to see if it had detached from the side of his head. Muttering darkly under his breath about how certain people needed to see the shrink again, he made his way to the Hospital Wing to let Madam Pomfrey check his ear just to be sure. On his way, still clutching his throbbing ear, he thought smugly about his tirade. H_a! I certainly showed those two that they are not the __only_ _ones who could talk in capitals! I'm like the __king_ _of speaking in capitals! Yay! Go me!_

Inside in the library his two friends sat shocked, frozen at what had just happened. Hermione brought her hand up to her face and wiped off some of the spit that Harry had so generously showered on them in his little shouting match.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," she said slowly.

"Do you think that Harry saw You-Know-Who...um, you know, naked?" Ron said so quietly that she almost didn't catch it, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Hermione sighed in a long suffering manner, "I don't _know _Ron and I don't care to find out really."

Ron nodded slowly with that same horrified expression then he seemed to come abruptly to himself and remembered the cause for this whole incident in the first place and shot a glare at Hermione. He stood up and sniffed rather loudly and stormed out the library with his book bag as Madam Pince gave him a venomous look as he went past.

Hermione shook her head at his retreating figure and turned back to her essay, thinking that may be Harry _was _right – certain people did need therapy after all. She finished her essay fairly quickly with the further absence of the distracting histrionics of her best friends and spent the better part of the next hour resolutely attempting to straighten the dogeared covers of all the books on the first row of the shelf beside her- her favorite pass time. As she finished with each book, she placed it on her chair and sat on it to maintain pressure on the newly repaired volumes. As a result she was sitting on a tottering pile of books. She hopped down from her perch at the end of the hour and replaced the books on the shelf. She collected her things, swung her bag on her shoulder and made her way out of the library, occasionally rubbing her bum which was sore on having to balance on top of the unstable book tower for an hour, and made sure to give Pince one of her widest toothy smiles which meant to convey that she-unlike her moronic friends-had the highest respect for the place.

Madam Pince shook her head slightly watching the Granger girl walk out the door with her book bag swinging behind her and one hand clutching her behind. She had watched the poor girl daily sitting on a pile of her most dusty and old books covered with moss and fungus- not that the librarian would ever admit that she had failed in the upkeep of the said books, she always insisted(to herself) that the sad condition of the books was due some treacherous magic(which may not be so far fetched). She thought that this was some odd fetish of the Gryffindor girl and had felt bad for her and did not yell at her as she may have if it was anyone else perching their behinds on her books – after all she was some what fond of the girl, bizarre fetish or not, she was the only one apart from herself who worshiped the library. But still, she thought idly, as she saw the bushy hair disappear beyond the doors, some people would do good with some therapy.

OoOoOoO

A/N : Like it? Well folks, this is just a beginning to a whole wild ride on Insanity Express! So hold tight! And yeah **REVIEW!**

A/N2: reupdated with my new beta- Amrita Kamikaze! AK (heh he!) promises to rescue me from the depths of Punctuation and Grammar hell to, so to speak, the Pearly gates of er..all things Grammatically correct in the English language!** Thnx AK!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : No, don't own HP verse.

Summary : It's the Fifth Year. Harry is super angsty. Ron's Confidence meter is at negative twenty. Hermione gets anonymous er..love notes. Malfoy is super, _super_ whiny. _And _everyone is paranoid!

A/N : warning: this is a _totally _insane story!

**Chapter Two : **_**Grease, Shampoo and a Kiss**_

After Monday night's histrionics in the library, Hermione didn't expect the next day to be perfect, or even normal. And she was right, it wasn't even _remotely _normal – neither for her nor for the Fifth Year Gryffindors and Slytherins present that day in the first lesson of the morning, Double Potions.

Well it _started _out normally, what with the dungeon doors closing behind them with an ominous bang; Snape swooshing into the room, with his robes billowing, again, ominously behind him; Snape glaring at each student for exactly one minute, fifteen seconds and thirty-five milliseconds, creating that perfectly ominous atmosphere in the room; Neville dropping his brand new cauldron, as his hands shook with nervousness due to all that, er, ominousness; Snape barking at them to start preparing whatever the damn potion he had discussed with them the other day and that he ardently hoped, for their sakes, that '_some of you dim-witted trolls do actually manage to brew the potion correctly so that the precious minutes I had spent to try and educate you do not go down the drain that leads to the sewer--where currently your brains are rotting;'_ everyone scurrying to the store cupboard to get the lacewings, boar teeth, toad guts, some nice, fresh, yellow pus, tomato, peas, cockroach antennae, and may be even Centaur shit and what not; Neville tripping on his way back to his desk so that he dents his brand new spare cauldron by squashing it; Hermione feverishly cutting up her ingredients to prove that her brain was _not _stewing with the refuge; Harry musing, as he chopped liver into slivers, about how Cho didn't manage to shrivel up due to the vast amounts of water she shed as tears every time he saw her, about how Ginny said that his feet were too big, about how Voldemort would look in pink dress robes and a bow on top his bald head, about how to goad Ron into not resigning from the team (maybe he'd tell him that Hermione would hook up with him if he stayed on and performed well in the next match, such as saving a goal or two—_hey, no pressure_), about how to escape from Hermione once she found out about the deal, about how he should order those special illusion shoes that'd make his feet look smaller, about how he should tell Cho to get a life, and that if the space beneath his bed was a good hiding space and if Hermione knew how to do the Cruciatus curse; Ron growing purple in the face as he tried to remember what exactly Snape had been hollering about yesterday; Draco surreptitiously reading _Wizards' Quarterly _under the table, lifting his head every now and then to lecture Pansy on the correct way to skin the Shrivelfig bulb, to which she muttered darkly about how she'd like to skin, slice and quarter something that wasn't the Shrivelfig at all, that Draco pretended not to hear, though he scooted away from Pansy's knife and blanched a little….

Well, you know-- normal stuff that happened in the dungeons everyday. But yet today was a bit different as Ronald Weasley did not badger Hermione Granger to tell him how to brew whatever potion it was that they were supposed to be brewing. Nope, not even a desperate plea to help him, so that he wouldn't fail the assignment and Snape wouldn't _Avada _his arse.

Ron, still smarting from her rather unfortunate assessment of his Quidditch prowess, refused to acknowledge her presence in the room, let alone speak to her. He seemed to have adopted the strategy that treating her like she didn't exist in his world would force her to finally apologize to him and even (this was his favorite fantasy after the one where Fleur Delacour professes her undying love to him and feeds him grapes and ruffles his hair and …er the rest of Ron's musings cannot be included here, unless I change the rating of this fic) tell him that he was not only the best Quidditch player at school but also the bestest-est freakin' Keeper in the world, better than that smarmy Tornadoes' Keeper.

So, he treated her like she was invisible, sure that she'd crack at any moment. Only this 'invisible air' wasn't that invincible as he liked to pretend. It constantly prodded him, pinched him (_very_ hard) at most inappropriate moments and bared its fangs--teeth-- at him. Nope, this 'invincible air' didn't like to be treated invincible at all. But alas, Ron may not be a lot of things (like terribly smart or perceptive as_ 'Her-She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Acknowledged'_), but he certainly was very stubborn (_'and also devastatingly handsome-_ _don't forget that!'_).

Hermione, thus, was now in a very foul mood. All her attempts at making Ron talk to her had proved futile. She _certainly _wasn't going to apologize to the git unless he apologized first for insulting her books and the hallowed library. But his ignoring her was driving her crazy. She was sorely tempted to hex him, or push him into his cauldron, as it bubbled merrily beside him. But better sense prevailed and she desisted from doing so. Besides, there was the fact that the Potions' classroom was filled with witnesses and that meant she'd go straight to Azkaban _without taking the OWLs!_ Oh, the horror!

So she gave a final, painful, nudge to his ribs with her elbow and turned around to her own cauldron, even as Ron tried to stifle the groan of pain and felt his bruised chest gingerly. May be this wasn't such a good strategy after all, Ron thought glumly and wondered if his pride was worth the physical abuse he was suffering, as he stirred in Newt eyes into his potion. Just then, he felt a couple of Newt eyes bounce off his forehead. He looked up, his eyes searching through the fumes wafting about in the dungeon. And he found the culprit on the Slytherin side of the classroom waving merrily at him.

Malfoy sneered at him with his pale pointy git face, his other hand holding a jar of Newt eyes. Even as Ron narrowed his eyes at him and sent him a death glare, Malfoy's lips tipped in a smug smirk and mouthed something to him. Ron's brows furrowed to discern what it was. Malfoy was gesturing wildly at him and making something like a crown on top of his head with his hands. Ron scowled fiercely at the blond git as he and his fellow Slytherins sniggered behind their hands. Ron's face steadily grew hot as he stared resolutely into his cauldron. He felt a hand on his arm and looked up slowly. It was Hermione. She gave him a small sympathetic smile. He shrank back in alarm, his arms shielding his ribcage. She rolled her eyes at him. She bent towards him and whispered:

"Its okay Ronald," she patted his arm. "Don't let those nasty idiots get to you."

Then she did the unthinkable. She stood on tip toes and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Ron's cheek grew flaming hot, and he goggled at her as she again turned back to her potion.

Across the room Malfoy blinked his eyes stupidly, not comprehending what he had just witnessed. His brain was screaming – _Granger kissed. Granger kissed Weasel. __**Granger kissed Weasel!**_

He made a retching noise and bent to throw up in the neighboring cauldron – Goyle's. But no one seemed to pay any attention to him as just at that moment a loud explosion echoed through the dungeon. Draco stood up in shock, apparently forgetting all about his nausea. The front of the classroom was engulfed in a thick, green smoke. He tried to peer through the curtain of smoke.

A jumble of noises were coming from its midst. Someone emitted a high pitched squeal, then a loud thump, a shout, a gasp and cutting through it all was the silky voice of the Potions' master as he hissed, "Stay where you are. Idiot boy!"

The class moved forward cautiously. Draco, who was regrettably on the shorter side ('_perfectly normal height range for healthy, growing fifteen year old boys, who hadn't yet, experienced the growth spurt_,_you_ _sniggering piece of shit!'_), couldn't see past the trollish Goyle in front of him. He took a careful step forward around the cauldrons and brought a highly polished patent dragon hide boot clad foot onto the unfortunate that one of Goyle's. Goyle yelped loudly like a girl and hopped around on his other foot, as Draco watched in smug satisfaction. He turned his attention to the front of the class, his view now unobstructed.

Snape had somehow managed to clear the smoke and he was now looming over a green goop covered Longbottom. With his greasy hair curtaining his face, he glared venomously at the frightened boy, who looked like green jelly with the way he was shaking under his professor's gaze.

Draco smirked; this was going to be good. This was the usual 'Snape's 101 Ways To Make Long Butt Bawl For His Grammy' show – worth his every knut. It was at moments like this that Draco was extremely glad that Snape was the Head of his House – he provided good entertainment for his wards via the bullying of ninnies of other Houses, also _he _himself was safe from similar fate at the greasy git's hands. He sat back on the bench beside Goyle, who was still cradling his foot and moaning piteously, to enjoy the show; Pansy, apparently thinking along the same lines, came to sit beside him.

Hermione watched worriedly as Snape towered over poor Neville, looking like a large batty vampire who had cornered its prey to sink its fangs in. Neville, who was covered from head to foot in his disastrous potion, whimpered and shrank back, the remnants of his cauldron strewn beside him.

"So," Snape began in a low whisper. Neville quaked.

"_So,_" he said and paused again, obviously enjoying the effect on the poor boy. Neville was shaking so much, Hermione observed dully, that it seemed he was set on 'vibrate'.

"_You_ think _you're_ so clever", he spat pointing a rather fleshy finger at him, "that you're so perfect at the art of potion making that you have no need for instructions _or _precautions that _I asked you to follow!_"

Neville let out a meep. Draco and the rest of the Slytherins bent forward eagerly, while the Gryffindors cringed and grimaced as Snape's tone steadily became icier; like the git had swallowed up the entire Arctic.

"Tell me, boy!" he hissed, it was clear that he was immensely enjoying himself berating the lumpy Gryffindor, an almost vindictive glee lurking behind his eyes, "does anything _ever _go past that thick skull of yours? Or are you simply immune to all the knowledge that this school _tries _to impart to worthless beings like you?"

Hermione stood fuming, her hands itching to throw her own potion on the oily-never-washed-in-decades-hair. Alright, maybe not her perfectly brewed potion - as throwing that would be a real shame and not to mention monumental waste of her effort. But she definitely wanted to throw something at him like- like _Ron's_ potion - _hey! _He was _going_ to get a 'P' anyway for his potion, as he hadn't stirred it three and a half turns in the clockwise direction after adding Hollygrass essence, so it wasn't like it would be a _big_ loss…- Hermione was torn from her musings as Snape continued his verbal assault.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Longbottom. I can only hope for your sake and mine that you'd fail your OWL, like I expect you to, and then I'll be rid of you forever," he said. Then his cool, fathomless eyes moved onto his next prey – _Potter._

Draco sat up straight, his grey eyes shining in anticipation – this was a _way_ better pastime than reading about the latest robes' cuts and colors of the season in _WQ_.

"And _you _Potter," Snape's voice going dangerously low as his eyes took on a murderous gleam. "What were _you _doing when Longbottom was resolutely ruining his potion?"

Draco felt the temperature in the room rise up a few notches as Potter glared intensely at the Potion's master.

"Why didn't you warn him?" Snape continued seemingly unaffected by the death glare directed at him. "Perhaps you thought it'd be funny for him to blow up his potion? Hmm?" Snape leered at him showing his yellowed teeth.

Draco involuntarily recoiled back a little at the look on Potter's face, vaguely understanding why the Dark Lord considered the Scar Head to be his equal and nemesis.

Hermione and Ron recognized the look on Harry's face and looked at each other worriedly.

"So I think", Snape continued unperturbed by the daggers Harry glared at him, "I'll have to punish you for _not _helping your fellow student, which resulted in him making a fool of himself." Snape smirked. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter."

Hermione and Ron said "Uh-oh", at the same moment as Harry stood up and stamped his foot on the cold dungeon floor.

"_No you won't!"_

Snape who had turned to move back to his desk, snapped back to face him, his hair swinging around his sallow face.

"_What? What did you say? "_ he hissed looking at him in surprise.

"Yes – _what?!_" Malfoy repeated, not believing his ears.

The class became deadly silent as obsidian eyes bore into emerald ones. Neville stifled a sniffle.

"No, you _won't_ take points from me, s_ir_," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Potter! Shut up! If you don't want to end up in de-"

"NO I WON'T SHUT UP! YOU CAN'T GIVE ME DETENTION!"

Most of the class, except Hermione and Ron, jumped in shock having never been at the receiving end of Harry's full vocal power, while the said two just rolled their eyes and sighed.

"Potter-" Snape began angrily, having recovered from his momentary loss of speech.

"THAT'S NOT FAIR! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS PICK ON ME? WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU?"

Snape looked gob smacked. Malfoy fell off the bench.

"HOW THE FREAKING HELL SHOULD _I _KNOW HOW NEVILLE SCREWED UP HIS POTION - _AGAIN_? HOW THE HELL IS IT _MY_ FAULT?! MAYBE _YOU_ SHOULD PAY MORE ATTENTION TO HIM INSTEAD OF BILLOWING ABOUT LIKE AN OVER GROWN BAT TO TORTURE THE REST OF US"

The whole class gasped as one, while the Gryffindors silently cheered Harry on. The Slytherins almost looked cowed. Malfoy continued to stare at him wide eyed from the floor.

"YOU ARE THE MOST BIASED TEACHER I'VE SEEN AT HOGWARTS! GROW UP BUDDY, COZ THE WAY YOU KEEP FAVOURING YOUR STUPID HOUSE AT EVERY TURN ISNT MATURE IN THE LEAST! AND WHILE ON THE SUBJECT OF PREJUDICES- WHAT'S WITH YOU HATING ME? I MEAN, FROM THE FIRST DAY I STEPPED FOOT HERE! IF YOU HAD A PROBLEM WITH MY DAD, WHY TAKE IT OUT ON ME?! ITS NOT LIKE _I _TOOK OFF YOUR KNICKERS AND SUSPENDED YOU UPSIDE DOWN IN PUBLIC!"

Snape turned crimson and made a gurgling sound like his voice box had just shut down, his eyes drawn horrifyingly wide. The class glanced at him to confirm if it was true then quickly bit the inside of their cheeks to stop from smiling. Harry took a gratifying breath and continued, now that he was in full flow he actually was quite enjoying himself and noted with satisfaction as his audience held their breaths as he opened his mouth.

"AND WHAT IS WITH YOUR OBSESSION WITH THESE STUPID DUNGEONS?!" Harry gestured broadly around the room, Snape, who anyway was frozen in shock with his mouth hanging open and it was doubtful that he could even comprehend what was now going around him, "THEY ARE SO COLD, DARK AND DRAUGHTY- IT'S FREEZING IN HERE! HOW WILL I BE ABLE TO FACE AND DEFEAT THAT SNAKE FACED VOLDEMORT IF I GET PNEUMONIA OR SOMETHING? HMM?"

(…Er..okay, maybe Harry was getting a _bit_ carried away here..)

The class gasped again at hearing the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Snape even seemed to come out of his shocked reverie.

"AND…UM….OOH!- WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH YOUR HAIR? IT IS SO _REVOLTINGLY_ GREASY, LIKE, _ALL THE TIME!_ HAVEN'T YOU HEARD OF OIL-CONTROL SHAMPOO? DO YOU _EVEN _SHAMPOO? DO YOU EVEN KNOW _WHAT _SHAMPOOING IS? I MEAN, SERIOUSLY DUDE, GREASE LITERALLY DRIPS FROM YOUR HAIR! LIKE, YOU KNOW, REALLY GREASY LIKE TURKEY GREA-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH POTTER!" Snape shrieked, having recovered finally. "You- you- _you!_-"

He stuttered, struggling to get a grip on himself and visibly controlling himself from strangling Harry's neck. He took a deep shuddering breath, then another two, as he continually flexed his fingers. He closed his eyes briefly then snapped them open glaring at the bespeckled image before him with renewed loathing.

"One thousand points from Gryffindor!"

There were some muttered protests across the room.

"_Silence!_" he barked. "And you Potter!" he said in a venomous whisper, "detention _every_ night until the _end_ of your year!"With that he turned on his heel and stormed out of the classroom.

The shocked silence left in his wake was immediately shattered as everyone started talking at once. In all the din, the Gryffindors rushed forwards and patted Harry's back, cheering and yelling high-fives at each other, while the Slytherins hung back and muttered among themselves.

Draco finally picked himself up from the floor and dazedly sat back on the bench, where even Goyle had forgotten all about his foot and was ogling at the doors through which their Head of House had exited. Draco looked around at Pansy and found her staring intently at the Gryffindors; he was surprised to realize that she seemed to be giving an appraising eye to the Pot Head. He shook his head; surely he was mistaken. He roughly shook her by the shoulder, thereby finally drawing her attention to him.

"What is it Draco?" she asked him with a small sigh, like he was a rather bothersome two year old. He huffed.

"_What is it? WHAT is it?!_ Did you not _see_ what just happened?!" he cried almost hysterically.

"Yes, Draco. I did see what just happened," she replied patiently.

"_So?!"_

She raised her brows at him.

"Merlin, woman! That is your cue to say that Potty has finally cracked and would be soon shipped off to St. Mungo's !" he said exasperated.

"Hmm..yeah" she said glancing at Potter again.

"So say it!"

Pansy rolled her eyes at her petulant friend and said, "Potter has finally cracked and will be sent to St .Mungo's. There, happy?"

Draco sniffed.

"I _always_ knew he was a crack-pot! After all, that curse _must_ have addled some part of his brain! Stupid nut-case," he muttered clutching at his ears. "I bet he doesn't even need a killing curse to zap You-Know-Who! All Potter has to do is yell at him and he'd shrivel up and die from that horrible, unbearable voice!"

Pansy, who had gone back to staring at that ugly conceited Gryffindork again, waved her hand listlessly at him. Draco huffed, and poked her sharply in the shoulder.

"Ow!" she turned abruptly to him. He smirked. Then sighed a long suffering sigh.

"I _swear _Pans, I think I've gone partly deaf! Do you think that oaf's yelling has caused some permanent damage to my ears?" he asked putting on an appropriately worried look. "Do you think I should go and let Madam Pomfrey check them?"

Pansy resisted in rolling her eyes again at him, "I think that may be a good idea. Why don't you go now, or else you'll miss your next class?"

"Good, then," he said standing up and beaming. "Come along then, Pans," he said dragging her up from the bench.

"But Draco, my ears are perfectly fine!" she protested weakly, trying to get out of his grip.

"I _know_ Pans," he sighed dramatically again. "We are going for the sake of _my _precious ears. Now, come along, hurry!" he whined, as he pulled her by the hand towards the exit. He paused on the way to give an especially nasty glare to the Weasel; he and the Bushy Haired One were still standing at their desk and had not rushed, unlike the rest of the Gryffindumbs, to kiss Potter's arse. The duo seemed to be shaking their heads resignedly at the Boy Who Screeched.

Upon noticing Draco, Granger had placed her hand on Weasel's arm, apparently to restrain him from retaliating to Big Bad Dwaco's taunts. _Ha! As if the baboon had any other ways of retaliating to his very, very witty remarks than resorting to crude violence._

"Oh, look Weasel-King, Granger's come to your rescue!" he drawled. "Aw, ain't that cute?", he said looking at Hermione's hand, "you two are so touchy-feely and stuff, I can almost feel the bile in my mouth!"

Ron withdrew his arm from Hermione as though it had burnt and blushed furiously. Hermione folded her arms across her chest. Draco smirked as those brown eyes narrowed at him and the pink lips pursed, daring him to provoke. And he noted, not for the first time, how adorable her face looked with her button nose slightly scrunched, the smattering of freckles on it; her cheeks like ripe peaches; and those eyes, those eyes were like warm pools and they seemed to be melting something inside him – oh, he just loved how cute Granger looked when she was angry!

_Wait! Did he just think 'Granger', 'cute' and the 'L' word in the same sentence? _Draco stumbled backwards in shock. Panicking now, and reasoning that Potter's screaming may _indeed _have effected his brain cells via his hearing canal, he shot a last horrified glance at them and hurried out of the doors into the corridor, dragging Pansy behind him.

Raising her eyebrows at the retreating blond and his bit – ahem, his so-called female accomplice, Hermione wondered idly how anyone could put up with the Ferret for more than five minutes and thought that in that aspect PPFP (___Pansy 'Pug Face'_ _Parkinson - well, duh!_) definitely deserved an award of sorts, as anyone who could put up with Malfoy's sarcastic barbs, and not to mention his whining, day in and day out definitely had super human patience _or_ were completely deaf. She turned to look at Ron and noticed him staring at his arm as though little tentacles were erupting from the skin. He was still rather red and refused to look up at her. She shrugged and marched to the center of the class to drag Harry away from his group of admirers; the next class was about to start.

OoOoOoO

* * *

A/N: this chap was getting way too long so i had to chop it off...so, sorry if it seems abrupt. and for Dramione shippers, don't worry, the romance will come! :)

I just love the way Harry hollers! (don't you?!) so, I couldn't resist including His Royal Capitalness' capitals again!!

I guess, i started writing this fic coz i suffered a bout of 'March Madness' or something! :D

**And again thnx a bunch AK!**

**R & R folks!**


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